


all the meanings of the word

by Nununununu



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Attraction, Head Injury, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Reunions, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:01:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29475873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nununununu/pseuds/Nununununu
Summary: It’s not like lifting the helmet up would help. It would just make him even more of a stranger.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Cobb Vanth
Comments: 12
Kudos: 108
Collections: DinCobb Valentine's Bingo 2021





	all the meanings of the word

**Author's Note:**

> For the DinCobb Valentine's bingo squares 'amnesia or temporary memory loss', 'helping the other with an injury' and 'pining!Din', with pining Cobb also thrown in :)

“He doesn’t remember anything,” Jo warns. She gestures for Din to step into the tent the Tuskens have been kind enough to let Cobb use while he recovers, their own medic conversing with the doc from Mos Pelgo in a mix of languages nearby.

“I understand,” Ducking under the entrance flap, Din lets it fall shut again behind him, and then it’s just him and Cobb who’s had a nasty knock to the head and forgotten it all.

Din has a moment in which he almost can’t bring himself to look at the other man; it’s been three years and he doubts the sight of him will be enough to jog any memory to the fore, although Jo had contacted him to request he return to Mos Pelgo, as apparently the townsfolk were all desperate and felt it might be of worth.

Why him, Din has no idea – and even if he did, it would feel wrong to hope.

There’s a little noise from in front of him, further in the small tent, and he steels himself, looking up to find Cobb lying on his side under a mound of furs, asleep but stirring, bringing one hand up to scrub at his face only to stop as if in puzzlement on encountering the herb-infused compress held in place by bandages upon his brow.

“I’ve got bacta, if you need it,” Din finds himself saying, something both medics have agreed is a little too late physically but might still be worth a try. There’s perhaps a little defensiveness there, given it’s something neither party can easily access or afford, and an undercurrent of stubborn pride. Sure enough, Cobb waves the offer off even as what’s visible of his brow wrinkles in mild confusion, and he lifts his head up partially, squinting at Din in the dim yellow light of the lantern hanging overhead.

“You the – the fella these folk have been telling me about, right?” He looks so tired, beard a tad unkempt, his hair sticking up in tufts, rumpled and sleep worn. It makes Din want to go to him and take his hand perhaps, kneel by his side. Slip in on under the furs and feel the heat of Cobb’s body.

Cobb also looks hopeful, like he wants what people have been saying to be true, and Din swallows down on any of this, fearing he’s just going to be a disappointment, wanting to at least be a friend.

“I think it depends what they’ve been telling you,” He lets himself crouch down near the foot of the pallet, holding himself back when Cobb shifts upwards that bit further on a small huff.

“That’s we’re partners,” He’s searching Din’s helmet like he would his face.

“That’s – what you used to call me, yes,” Din feels his cheeks heat. It had been _nice_ , special in a way he can’t admit to out loud, even if it hadn’t meant what he wished it did. Turning to one side in the effort to divert attention, he locates a small tray holding a shallow bowl of precious water and hands it over, careful not to spill.

“Then what did _you_ call _me_?” Cobb’s eyes are considering over the brim of the bowl as he drinks just as carefully, “And why ‘used to’?”

“I’ve been off-planet,” It only occurs to Din after he says this to wonder if Cobb even remembers that such a thing is possible, “I haven’t been able to come to Tatooine for years.”

“But you wanted to?” Cobb passes him the remaining water with a little nod of his chin, offering Din the rest of it. Din smiles in gratitude and to soften the refusal even as he knows Cobb won’t see.

It’s not like lifting the helmet up would help. It would just make him even more of a stranger. He still imagines doing so anyway, of looking at Cobb with his own eyes, of reaching out to soothe away the tiredness from the other man’s face.

“I wanted to,” He softly agrees. _I wanted to see you. Over and over throughout the years, I wanted to come back here. But I couldn’t, not while everything was going on with Grogu and the darksaber and what was left of the Empire, and I had no way of contacting you. No way of knowing if you’d even want to speak to me if I did._

No, that wasn’t fair. Cobb had said he wanted Din to return, hadn’t he, or at least they’d agreed to the hope of seeing each other again.

“Are you starting to remember anything?” Din doesn’t want to pressure or push, his fingers curling inside his gloves with the effort of not reaching out to catch one of Cobb’s hands in his when he’s set aside the bowl.

Cobb’s the one to close his fingers gently around Din’s wrist, a touch Din feels right through to his bones. His thumb just off brushing the place where there’s skin.

“I remember you calling me ‘marshal’,” He tips his head, “Which is what other folks here seem to call me as well – were we having problems or something? Is that why you left? Don’t tell me I was an ass. No, do tell me, so I can do something about it.”

He looks so earnest Din can only stare at him while his mind races at the conclusion Cobb’s apparently reached.

“Let me apologise to you, darling,” Cobb says softly, even as longing rises inside Din, filling him until he _aches_.

“No, I –” He finds himself staring at their fingers even as he tells himself he should draw back, even as just for a fraction, just for a millisecond, a tiny unbidden part of him whispers that he could just go along with this idea. To sneak a little of something he so wants to have.

But Cobb would never forgive him when he finds out and Din would never be able to forgive himself either. The very possibility of deceiving the other man like that disgusts him.

“ _I’m_ sorry,” He squeezes Cobb’s hand just for long enough to desperately want to take off his glove and do it again, “I’m sorry I’ve given you the wrong idea. We were –” Business partners sound awful, and isn’t precisely right anyway. Din flounders.

“Friends?” Cobb suggests.

“Yeah,” Din’s voice comes out as a rasp. He’d hoped anyway, even if he hadn’t let himself admit just how much he’d longed for both it and more even back then. Hearing Cobb say it now is more than he can believe he deserves.

Still, it feels like a gift.

“Yeah, I’d like to think so,” Din says more firmly. Takes a breath in, “And as your friend, I’m going to help you in any way I can, until you remember and then kick my ass for having muddled you.”

Cobb’s giving him that searching look again; the same confused face Din remembers from before. The other man really does look far too attractive doing it, lips parting just a little as if selecting which question he wants to speak.

“I think we _were_ partners,” He decides in the end, “You’re just too familiar and – You know, even if we weren’t, I think I wanted us to be.”

There’s no mistaking the implication in the way he says the word. Din’s so swept away by this it’s only when Cobb tightens his grip again that he realises they’re still holding hands.

“I’d hold off saying that until you remember,” Din makes himself caution as he should have done right from the start. He’d just been so delighted to see Cobb again and so worried about him that he didn’t stop to think how ‘partner’ would sound.

“Nah, I _know_ you, even if I don’t remember,” Cobb grins, “I know you’re good. I know I like what I see. So I just need to get on and recall the rest of it, so I can work on getting you to agree.”

“You think it’s going to be that easy?” Din hopes his smile is audible through the modulator. Tilts his head to emphasise it, while his heart races.

“I don’t reckon you have a habit of making anything _easy_ ,” Cobb says this like it’s the highest of compliments, his thumb grazing lightly against the inside of Din’s bare wrist in a way that makes his whole body sing.

“I guess we’ll find out,” Is the fairest thing he can force himself to say, given how much he just wants to more or less throw himself at the other man.

Cobb’s eyes are warm and bright on him, and the expression he’s making isn’t at all like one someone would give to a stranger.

“I look forward to it,” He agrees.


End file.
